


We'll Go Back Someday

by LadySilviana



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Eventual Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Romance, Secret Relationship, queliot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySilviana/pseuds/LadySilviana
Summary: Eliot and Quentin must hide their relationship from the Fairy Queen after getting back from the past. However, there are spies everywhere and revealing too much can be dangerous.Basically touches on elements of Season 3 episodes 5 and 6 but other than that non cannon compliant. Quentin is back with the depression key (somehow, I know we haven't gotten there in show yet.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quentin and Eliot talking about the cottage and making plans for the future.

"I wonder if they are still there? The cottage and the mosaic?" Quentin asked quietly, thoughtfully; almost to himself.

Eliot stood so still behind him that Quentin could have missed his presence entirely had it not been for the lightest touch of fingertips against his lower back.  
Dusk was falling and Fillory's obscure cresent moon shone in tandem with the setting sun upon Whitespire's balcony where the two men stood.

"I don't know. Magic probably kept it all in place but perhaps it fell apart once magic disappeared," Eliot pondered along with him. He watched the fading sunlight thread through Quentin's hair and suppressed the urge to stroke it. Keeping distance was the hardest thing since they got back to the present. He could not risk the Fairy Queen finding out who Quentin really was, or worst- finding out his emotional involvement and using it against them.

Thankfully, Margo commanded most of that white bitch's attention for the moment. Still, you couldn't be too careful.

Eliot sighed inwardly and kept his distance, pulling away the hand that rested briefly on Quentin's back.

"Don't say that," Quentin faced away from him but Eliot could tell the other was frowning as he said it. "It gives me hope thinking that it is still there."

"If it is not then we will make another one once we have restored magic, love. I promise."

"And live there again, just you and me?" Quentin looked back at him now, dark eyes mirroring the early evening's shadows.

"Hell why not? I was getting awfully tired of all this splendour and responsibility. Margo can have the kingdom." Eliot smiled warmly and wondered if Quentin was thinking of kissing just as much as he was right now. The other's lingering glance at Eliot's lips told him that he was.

Hell, this was entirely too frustrating.

"Except maybe no mosaic this time," Quentin laughed.

"I am not even sure it would work the same way a second time," Eliot said thoughtfully. "Think about it- does anyone who solve the mosaic get a key? Does that mean an infinite amount of keys for an infinite amount of probable outcomes of figuring out the beauty of life? Or will our key disappear once the quest is complete and go back to whatever dimension it was tethered in waiting to be brought back by someone else completing the mosaic? Or was it all a one time deal set up specifically for us and the mosaic is now obsolete?"

"That sounds almost like a philosophical debate, El," Quentin quirked an eyebrow. "I guess we will just have to go back there once this whole thing is done and find out."

"Yes, yes we shall."

Eliot couldn't help it anymore. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and seeing no one in the balcony entrance, leaned in towards Quentin.

It was barely a kiss; just a brush of lips; a whisper of breath joint for a tender moment while the last light of day broke upon Whitespire.

But it tasted of hope and promise.

He pulled away just as quickly, feeling his pulse quicken with slight anxiety and immediatetly chided himself for taking this risk.

"You should get going," Eliot straightened his back, hands clasped behind him. He spoke loudly for the benefit of anyone that might be listening and made sure to lace his voice with every regal air. "I don't want any of my guards dilly- dallying during their patrols. Report to duty."

Quentin feighned being flustered, hiding his hair behind his guard cap and gave Eliot a formal bow.

"Your magesty," Quentin said with equal formality, only his eyes giving away the true longing of his heart.

Eliot remained on the balcony a long while after Quentin's footsteps faded away into the hallway, looking out upon the forests surrounding the castle and wondering...

Behind him, floating just beyond the doorway to the balcony, an apirition in white lurked unseen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is hard having to be a High King when all you want to do is be with your lover- or Eliot pining and thinking about Quentin.

The summer heat permeated the castle, the usual enchantments that had kept an even temperature year around having collapsed when magic disappeared. In addition to this, the hot moisture that the Fairies regularly maintained made Whitespire barely tolerable.

“Peaches your Majesty?”

Eliot was lounging in his High Seat in the throne room, one leg thrown lazily over an armrest, his eyes closed. When he heard Tick’s inquiry, Eliot opened one eye demurely and gestured over to a nearby table, making every appearance of being bored.

“Lay the basket on the table,” Eliot could feel beads of sweat trickle down his face from beneath his circlet crown, dampening his dark curls. “And do find the High Queen will you? She should have been back by now.”

Tick obeyed, placing the basket of peaches on the table.

“I am afraid her Majesty is being detained by the Fairy Queen,” Tick said this in his usual apologetic manner and, as always, delivering unpleasant news seemed to have physically hurt the small man.

Eliot raised an eyebrow, “Is that so? You will just have to come up with an adequate distraction.”

Tick bowed for the second time since entering the throne room, having resigned himself as always to doing what he was bidden.

“Of course, your Majesty,” he said and backed out of the room, Eliot already losing interest in the other’s presence.

His eyes closed once more, the High King counted steadily to one hundred, fighting down the urge to get up from the throne and grab the basket of peaches.

If these hot days at Whitespire were hardly tolerable, then the long, languorous nights were outright torture. In his mind, Eliot saw clearly other nights, from another life; nights that lacked the luxury of kingly sheets and pillows but made up for it by the sweet comfort of Quentin’s arms.

Eliot smirked to himself. In all the universes, this would have to happen to the two of them. Long separations, literally worlds between them with something always left unsaid and undone. Realizations of truths and promises spoken with eyes that saw backwards in time to a different reality, one where every single longing was fulfilled. A love no longer denied but too dangerous to act out upon openly. A deep ache in his heart and a yearning in his body that transcended all logic and reason.

Eliot didn’t care for the kingdom anymore- he knew what it was like to be without it and the truth was, behind all his regal bearing and splendour, his heart was simple and he knew what he wanted. He could have Fillory and he could have Quentin again, like he did once already. That would be enough.

Perhaps Margo really could make a matriarchal rule out of the country. That would please her, no doubt.

But there was still the quest for now and the Fairy Queen and all this confounded waiting around and hiding.

 _Speaking of hiding_ , Eliot had counted to one hundred and rose gracefully from the throne, approaching the table with the peach basket. His long fingers reached out, caressing the velveteen skins of the ripe fruit as he examined them, making a slow selection. Deeper inside the basket, a darker specimen caught his eye and he dug it out, feeling as he did so the sharper edges of a folded note. It made him smile inwardly, even though he knew already that he would find it there. The peach basket had become a good way to pass notes between himself and Quentin, keeping up a secret correspondence when duties and obligations made seeing each other impossible.

After all, nobody but them knew the relevance of peaches.

Nobody else could know of the delicious taste of their fresh juice, dripping down from Quentin’s bottom lip unto his tongue.

The thought made Eliot shudder. Remembering images was one thing- it was entirely too unfair to have to remember tastes as well.

The small note swiftly relocated to the pocket of his pants, Eliot sat down and waited impatiently on Margo, bringing the peach to his lips and biting it with a ravaging sort of hunger.

It was not until the late evening, his regular duties and other tedious errands assigned by the Fairy Queen done for the day, that Eliot got to read the note. He lay sprawling in his massive bed, light silken sheets draping his otherwise naked body, pale and luminescent under the light of the moon shining in through his open window.

The night air brought no respite from the damnable heat and possibly its only upside was that Eliot no longer had to wear any clothes.

Carefully, hiding the paper under the lower edge of his pillow- you really could not tell when the Fairies were there or not sometimes- Eliot read:

_On hot summer days, Fiona and Jane Chatwin would practice their archery over by Clover Pond, on the eastern edge of the castle grounds. There, the ancient willows would provide the girls with ample shade while still allowing enough sunlight for target practice. When they were done with their bows, usually around noontime, Fiona and Jane would climb up the branches of the tallest tree, as its thick branches and rich leaves hid them well from view. There they would talk, unobserved and undisturbed for hours._

It was a passage from _The Flying Forest_ , written out in Quentin’s loopy and angular cursive. They made it a point to never write anything straight forward, often conversing through obscure references only the two of them would get. They had gotten quite good at it.

Eliot knew what this passage meant and his heart quickened with anticipation. He lay back unto his pillows, sheets clinging to his lithe form as he willed himself desperately to go to bed- if only to make tomorrow and its proffered meeting come sooner. But looking outside at the bright moon, he knew it would be another long, sleepless and restless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot more angsty pining planned for the next few chapters- but wait! There is also going to be a legitimate plot in here too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This decided to go in a radically different direction. I have no idea what happened on tonight's episode so I will say that this is in no way related to anything on the show. 
> 
> Taking a shot at some vilain pov here.. The Fairy Queen is not all that oblivious.

Her white hands floating just beneath the surface of the warm water, the Fairy Queen luxuriated in the bathtub. An array of Fairy attendants stood close by, replentishing her tub with rose petals and essential oils when the need arose.

  
 _It is nice when everyone knows their place in the heirarchy,_ she thought to herself, _no questions asked, just doing what they are told. The humans would learn eventually..._

Her plans for Fillory were coming along nicely, even if Queen Margo was a constant irritant, plotting and scheming .. Or at least trying to. She was a defiant spitfire, that one was, and it would be a pleasure to see her finally brought to heel.

The High King she hardly gave second thought to, considering him a spineless lush, too preoccupied with watching the guardsmen do their warm ups to be of hindrance to her.

That is until recently. She hardly liked the distant look in Eliot's eyes and his sudden abstinence from any sort of wordly pleasures. He had been different since he came back from... Wherever the hell he had gotten too. Less cowed. She didn't like it one bit. Unlike Margo, he turned out to be a lot more difficult to read, which lead her to believe that he was hiding something or plotting something... Or both.

His sudden lack of interest in looking at any well muscled romp in  the vicinity was especially concerning.

 _That,_ the Fairy Queen mused, could only indicate one thing. _The High King was enamoured with someone. And he is taking every care to make sure it is kept secret_.

Which of course meant that she had to know who it was.

A simpering form at the edge of her vision caught her attention.

"Ahhh, prince Fomar!" The Fairy Queen turned towards the boy. "Have you succeeded in your task?"

The boy winced and paled visibly.

"If you are talking about the consumation of my marriage..."

"Oh.. That," the Queen waved a hand. "That is of secondary importance. I mean those keys they have been collecting and have no idea that I know about."

"Oh, yes, my Lady," Fomar actually flushed with something like pride and reached a gloved hand in his pocket. He brought out a key and showed it to the queen. "I do not know what it does. But I overheard a conversation between the High King and Queen Margo. He assured her that it was of outmost importance and also very dangerous and must not be handled without protection. He then instructed her to hide it well. She did so, my Lady, but I was able to spy her out and retreave the key."

"Very interesting, Fomar." The Fairy Queen was inwardly impressed. This kid was certainly more than he appeared, considering the heist he pulled off to successfully assassinate his own brother. "I congratulate you on your partial success. Do remember that there are other keys. You must locate those as well and bring them to me."

The boy fumbled to bow and reached for her hand, which the Fairy Queen reluctantly gave him to kiss.

"There is one more thing," she said as the young man straightened and released her hand. "The High King fancies someone. Find out who it is. And make sure they are unaware of what is going on. They are constantly on the look out for my Fairy servants, but you do not appear as someone threatenining. Keep it that way."

"It will be done, my Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might not be as well written due to me writing it on my phone, so I apologize if there are errors.

**Author's Note:**

> I knoooowww there were already so many things about episode 5 on here, but I just had to. Also this is definitely going to be a longer project with a bunch of chapters and its own story arch that will mostly not have too much to do with the show.


End file.
